Travel & Photography Blog

Transition

Tel Aviv’s breeze caresses me while Matt Berninger and The National induce serenity. It’s almost 2 am and I’m tired, but a part of me doesn’t want to sleep, to say goodbye to my beloved balcony.

Morning.
Take one last look under the bed. Maybe there’s something under the blanket? Did I take all my things from the bathroom? Maybe the towel’s been left on the hook? That’s the way it is, when all that’s left of your apartment sums up to a mattress, a laptop, a speaker and toiletries. I truly left my apartment, the first place that’s been 100% mine, two days earlier, once I took my photos (of India, Nepal, Myanmar, Thailand and Greece) off the walls. Now, it feels a bit like a guesthouse. Maybe this way it’s easier to handle it and to get used to what’s coming next. You pack up your stuff and move on to the next guesthouse. For the next 10 days, it just happens to be the house I grew up in for 21 years.

I’m taking off all the stickers off of my car, all of our joint history that’s been proudly displayed on the front windshield. Just like that, in the middle of the night.
I left only one sticker, on the rear windshield – a quote by Daniela Spector (an Israeli singer): “Everything that is truly beautiful, ends in its own dawdling, inconsiderate way”.

I went through some important checkpoints in the last few days – the moment I entered my car with the last contents of my apartment and drove to my mom’s, and the moment I handed over my car keys to the buyer, and left behind my beloved Daihatsu.
The thing is – these moments didn’t feel important in real time. It just… happened.

“Well, are you excited?”, asked just about everyone.
No, actually. The days go by, and I’m just not processing it all. I know I’m supposed to be filled with excitement\anxiety\fear\happiness\sadness. The whole emotional rollercoaster, with loops and corkscrews. But… nope.

Driving to my former neighborhood with mom’s car. That’s a little weird. I’m not a local resident, so it’s harder to find a parking spot. My apartment is dark, and is actually no longer mine. At least Yael & Neta are still there, and Daniel & Ben are still bartending with their wondrous cocktails, still funny, still hop back & forth between, Bob Marley, The Beatles, James Brown, Nina Simone, Joni Mitchell and Radiohead.
With the right vibe and right people, even a cocktail bar can feel like home.
I’m stopping my car before the turn. The three of us get out of the car and hug, again and again and again.
I’m laughing as we say goodbye, because Yael is just being Yael and it makes me laugh, but mostly because it’s easier for me to handle it with laughter. I can’t stay indifferent any longer.

Two more days. It’s the middle of the night. I finish packing, and suddenly, after looking at my full backpack, it’s real.
Wow. I’m actually doing it. Oh, the craziness, the fun, the fear, the excitement.
Well, see you on the other side.